


5:24 A.M.

by Ralkana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2017-12-15 11:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/pseuds/Ralkana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil, Clint, and the sunrise. Some birthday fluff for our favorite archer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5:24 A.M.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer ~ Marvel's toys, not mine. I'm just playing with them
> 
> According to Matt Fraction (who should know), today, June 18th, is Clint Barton's birthday.

 

A hand shook his shoulder lightly, pulling him out of his slumber. Clint grunted and buried his head deeper into the pillows. There was a soft chuckle in return, and the same hand smoothed down his hair and stroked his cheek, familiar calluses rough and gentle at the same time. Clint was torn between arching into it and shoving away from it.

"Come on, Clint. Wake up now."

"'s still dark," he muttered.

"That's the point," Phil murmured. "Come on, now."

Clint opened one bleary eye. Phil was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing worn jeans and a soft gray sweater Clint loved -- an odd outfit for a Tuesday morning, but then, he was shaking Clint awake before dawn, and that was weird too. The fond look on his face was enough to make Clint's heart jump a little in his chest.

"Happy birthday," Phil said, his thumb caressing Clint's cheek and the corner of his mouth.

Clint fought to maintain his scowl and not lean into the touch and start purring like a cat. 

"I swear to God, Phil, if you woke me up at the asscrack of dawn just to tell me that -- "

His grumbling was abruptly cut off as Phil leaned down and caught his mouth in a swift kiss. He responded eagerly, all complaints forgotten, and he might have even whimpered and chased the kiss a little when Phil finally pulled away -- what was the point of having a birthday if he didn't get birthday kisses?

"Get dressed," Phil told him, tossing a pair of jeans and a shirt at him. 

"We goin' somewhere?" he asked as he slid the jeans up over his hips, not bothering with underwear -- Phil smirked and rolled his eyes at him, shaking his head.

He pulled the shirt over his head and ran a hand through the mess of his hair, but Phil stopped him before he could reach for his comb.

"Good enough. Come on."

Clint glanced curiously at him, but Phil just stared back, his expression mild and calm and not giving away a single thing, as usual. After a moment, Clint snorted and bent to yank his Chucks on.

When he looked back up, Phil had vanished.

"Damn ninja," he muttered affectionately, following him out of the bedroom.

Phil was waiting by the front door, an honest-to-God picnic basket in his hands, a light blanket folded on top.

"I don't think we'll need the blanket," he told Clint, "but we'll take it just in case."

"Considering I have no idea where we're going, I'll have to take your word for it."

Shifting the basket to one hand, Phil opened the door with the other before tangling his fingers with Clint's and tugging him out the door.

Clint followed easily enough, staring down at their joined hands, a little bewildered. Phil generally frowned on PDAs.

"I think a little handholding in the hall before dawn on your birthday is okay, Clint," Phil told him as they neared the elevator.

"I'll be sure to remember that on yours, sir," Clint said, smirking.

Phil side-eyed him. "Handholding in the tower does not mean blowjobs in the office, Barton," he said crisply, and Clint shrugged.

"Slippery slope, boss," he said with a grin.

Phil called the elevator by pushing the up button, and Clint raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing. 

The ride to the roof was quiet, Clint leaning tiredly but contentedly against Phil as Phil stroked the back of Clint's hand with his thumb. When the doors opened, Phil led him across the roof to the observation deck Stark had rebuilt after the battle, where a double-sized lounger was set up facing east.

"Aww, Phillip, are we gonna watch the sunrise together?" he teased, voice syrupy sweet to hide the way his heart lifted at the idea.

Being somewhere high to watch the sunrise or sunset was one of his favorite things to do, had been since he was little. That was one of the first of many confessions he'd made over the comms years and countless ops ago, back when they were nothing more than vaguely familiar voices in each other's ears.

That Phil would remember it, and choose to surprise him by sharing the experience with him on his birthday -- well, was it any wonder Clint was just plain stupidly in love with the man?

"Be nice or I won't share my breakfast with you," Phil told him, lips curling into a smirk as Clint's stomach growled at the mention of food.

They arranged themselves on the lounger, legs tangled together, Clint's head on Phil's chest, Phil's hand sweeping absentmindedly down Clint's arm. The sky was lightening now, stars winking out, hints of softer blue appearing on the horizon. The still morning was quiet and cool, the stifling heat of a summer day in the city still a thought in the distance, especially this high above the streets. 

They lay curled together in silence, each lost in his own thoughts -- well, Clint let his mind drift, not thinking of anything in particular, but he imagined Phil's brain was as active as ever. That brilliant mind was never still.

After a while -- the sky was showing the slightest signs of pink and orange now -- Phil shifted, pulling a thermos and an insulated container out of the basket. 

He poured a cup of coffee into the cap of the thermos, handing it over. Clint gratefully breathed in the fragrant steam before taking a sip and humming in appreciation. It was the kind of coffee they both preferred, black and strong and flavorful without being muddy, and he took another sip just to savor it.

The sound he made when Phil opened the container was a little bit undignified, and a lot incoherent.

The cinnamon rolls were huge and fluffy, dark with the spice and still warm. The icing was abundant, still gooey and clinging to the pastry when Phil tore off a hunk. Clint knew exactly where they were from, and they were just about his favorite food in the whole world. 

"They don't open till 5:30," Clint breathed, in awe. "How..."

Phil just smirked.

"Be honest now," Clint said seriously. "Did you tell the bakery that these cinnamon rolls were vital to global security?"

"I would never abuse my authority in that manner," Phil deadpanned, and then he shoved the bit of pastry into Clint's grinning lips.

They shared the coffee and cinnamon rolls, licking the sticky icing off each other's fingers and slipping into sugary kisses as the sky blazed with the glory of the coming sun.

The view from the top of the tower was breathtaking, and Clint enjoyed every minute of it, full and happy as he relaxed in Phil's arms. He shifted with a sigh at the thought of this perfect moment inevitably ending. And soon.

"What time are you going in?" he murmured reluctantly. 

Phil's lips brushed over his temple. "I'm not."

Clint craned his neck around to stare disbelievingly at him. Phil's smile was soft, his eyes clear and happy.

"Seriously?"

"Took a day. We're going to do whatever you want today. Within reason," he clarified, realizing that handing Clint such an open-ended offer was a dangerous idea.

Clint closed his eyes and buried his face in Phil's neck with a slightly shaky laugh, a little overwhelmed. Of all the things Phil could have given him for his birthday, his time was the most valuable, and the rarest.

"So what's the plan?" Phil asked, his breath warm against Clint's skin, and Clint shivered.

"This right here is looking pretty good for the next forever," he said, and Phil chuckled.

"Then this is what we'll do," he said, arms tightening briefly around Clint as he sighed in satisfaction. "Happy birthday, Clint."

 _The happiest_ , Clint agreed, his eyes closed against the shining light of the new day, a perfectly contented smile on his lips.

**END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> 5:24 A.M. is, of course, the official time of sunrise for NYC today, 6/18/13.


End file.
